Trapped Souls
by alikara
Summary: Duncan and Connor find an immortal who has been entombed since his first death,and not knowing of his own immortality. Finding out that he is also a MacLeod is only the first shock. He is only one of many etombed immortals.........
1. Default Chapter

Trapped Souls  
  
By: alikara  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah. You all know the drill. I don't own a damn thing, blah blah. There. Happy? Good. Oh, and special thanks to my best friend, who previews every chapter before I post, and helps me keep everyone in character. Oh, and helping me with 'the fic is one big paragraph' problem.  
  
SouthernChickie, domo arigato gozaimasu!!! ^_^  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The gray eyed man paid no attention to the masses of people rushing by him, as he stood in front of the Museum. He barely noticed when a light drizzle began, dampening his short brown hair, but at a gust of wind, he pulled his tan trench coat closer around him.  
  
He blinked, and his eyes cleared when a strange, yet all too familiar pulsing buzz filled his mind. His ears seemed to focus on a single pair of footsteps coming up behind him. The man smirked lightly.  
  
"You're late." He said, suddenly, in a throaty voice, and turned, smiling. Before him stood another man, looking to be about thirty-five. He wore a black trench coat, like the first man, black slacks, and a red button up shirt. Long dark hair was neatly pulled back at the base of his neck ,and deep brown eyes glared.  
  
"I am not." He whined. The two glared at each other for a moment, then both grinned.  
  
"It's good to see you, Duncan." The first said, as they clasped hands, pulling each other closer to throw their free arms around the other's shoulder.  
  
"How are you, Connor?" Duncan said, as they stepped back. "You look good."  
  
"I'm great. You?"  
  
"Uhg. Don't ask. Between Richie, Joe and Methos, I might take my own head if someone doesn't do it for me."  
  
"Can I have your sword?"  
  
"Oh, thanks for the support."  
  
"Your car, then?"  
  
"You'll have to fight Methos for it."  
  
"That's what poker is for."  
  
"Yeah. But he cheats." Both chuckled under their breath, as they entered the museum. They kept their coats on, despite annoyed glances from the curator, and started wandering through the museum.  
  
"So, why the museum?" Duncan asked after a moment.  
  
"Because."  
  
"Because why?"  
  
"Just because."  
  
"Oh." Duncan grumbled, eyeing a security guard who was eyeing some high school girl's rear end. They wandered a while, making comments about all the forgeries and duplicates in the museum, but gradually quieted.  
  
"So, why are we meeting?"  
  
"Because."  
  
"Because why?"  
  
"Just because"  
  
"Oh." Duncan grumbled, this time eyeing some little kid screaming on the top of his lungs, pulling his mother's skirt.  
  
"I was bored." Connor said, finally. "I got lonely. That happens, Duncan."  
  
"Yeah, but this is the first time you've admitted it."  
  
"Oh, shut up." Connor snapped.  
  
"How long are you staying?"  
  
"Don't know."  
  
"Where are you staying?"  
  
"Not far from the Dojo."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"That little cheap motel."  
  
"You're joking."  
  
"No."  
  
"I've got a sofa."  
  
"Heh. No thanks." Connor chuckled, as they proceeded into the next room. Both men froze, as soon as they crossed the threshold. Their eyes darted around as their minds pulsed.  
  
"You feel that?" Connor asked.  
  
"How can I not?" Duncan said. "Those vibes are unmistakable."  
  
"Vibes?"  
  
"That's what Richie calls them." Duncan explained, and Connor snorted. Duncan walked into the middle of the room. "I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod." He called. There was silence. Connor frowned, reaching into his jacket, feeling the carved hilt of his Katana.  
  
"There's no one here, Duncan." He said, after a moment.  
  
"Don't be absurd." Duncan muttered, looking around, reaching into his own coat. "We both felt it."  
  
"I know. But there's no one here."  
  
***************  
  
"What do you mean there was no one there?" Joe Dawson asked the two men sitting across from him.  
  
"Just that." Duncan said. "We felt the presence of another immortal, but there was no one there."  
  
"Or maybe they just didn't answer." A fourth said.  
  
"Why wouldn't they answer?" Connor said, glancing at the fourth man, who took a pull at his beer bottle.  
  
"Maybe they were scared." He said, putting the bottle down.  
  
"Why would they be scared?" Duncan said.  
  
"Because there were two of you." The fourth said. Joe sighed, and shrugged.  
  
"It makes sense." The old man said, rubbing his forehead. Duncan, Connor, and the fourth man looked up, their faces alert. "Speaking of sense." Joe said, noting their looks. "I take it you three are sensing a presence?" Before they could answer, the door to the bar swung open, and in walked a fifth man, looking just barely out of his teens.  
  
"Hey, Mac!" The newcomer called. "Oh, woah, hey, Big Mac!" Duncan grinned, nudging Connor.  
  
"That's you." He muttered, laughing. Connor gave a disgusted look.  
  
"What's up Joe?" The loud kid said, pulling up a chair.  
  
"Hey, Richie." Joe said.  
  
"And I get ignored." The fourth mused to his beer bottle.  
  
"Ah, well, beauty before age, Methos." Richie said, and Methos gave Richie a cool look, then smirked.  
  
"And, what if you fall under both categories?" Richie blinked.  
  
"You're not that lucky." He said. "So? What's going on?" Methos rolled his eyes.  
  
"I am going." He said, standing. "To check out this unconfirmed sighting."  
  
"Sighting? What kind of sighting."  
  
"UFO, Richie. Your people have returned for you." Methos said, pulling on his coat.  
  
"Ha ha. Oh yeah. And ha." Richie grumbled. "Don't forget to pick up fries with that." Methos stopped, and turned to look at Richie, brow furrowed in confusion. He looked at Duncan, who shrugged, equally confused. Richie looked at Methos, raised his eyebrows, and smirked, knowingly. Methos just shrugged, and left.  
  
"So, what sighting?" Richie asked.  
  
"We felt an immortal at the museum, but there was no one there." Connor said.  
  
"The museum?" Richie asked.  
  
"Yeah. You know, the place with all the old stuff on display." Duncan clarified. Riche gave him a look. "Near the library. You know the place with all the books." "Shut up, Mac." Richie snapped. Joe chuckled.  
  
"So, you got the vibes, but there was no one there." Richie said, turning back to Connor, who nodded, and downed his shot, that he hadn't touched previously.  
  
"Any other immortals in town that we should know about?" Duncan asked Joe, who sighed.  
  
"Not that I know of." He said. Duncan sighed, and sipped his beer.  
  
"Hey, Joe. Can I grab something?" Richie said standing.  
  
"Yeah. Hey, bring me my laptop while you're up." Richie nodded, and went into Joe's office behind the bar, snatching the laptop from the desk. He placed it down in front of Joe, then started digging around for a drink. Joe flipped on the computer, and started typing.  
  
"Nope. No one has reported it to me." He said. Richie sat down again.  
  
"What's that?" Connor asked, looking at Richie's drink.  
  
"Rootbeer float." Richie said, poking the ice-cream with a spoon. Duncan snorted into his beer. For the next half hour, Joe typed on his computer, and Connor and Duncan watched Richie play with his float. Duncan, Connor and Richie looked up suddenly, and a minute later, Methos walked. Joe looked up, expectantly. Methos sat down, frowning thoughtfully.  
  
"Well?" Richie asked, finally.  
  
"They're right." Methos said, shrugging, stealing Duncan's beer. "I felt the presence of another immortal in the same room that they did. But, I searched, and there was no one there."  
  
"Well, at least we know you're not crazy." Riche said, to the two Highlanders, earning himself two annoyed looks.  
  
"Yeah, but we all know that Methos is crazy." Joe snickered.  
  
"You're the one talking to four guys who can't die." Duncan shot at his Watcher.  
  
"I'm not sensing Immortals that aren't there."  
  
"You're not sensing immortals period." Richie said.  
  
"So, who's the sane one?" Joe said, grinning at Richie, before turning to Methos. "You felt someone, but no one was there?"  
  
"Right." Methos said. "Not a soul."  
  
"Really?" Richie said. "I wanna see. Or, not see, whatever." And he leapt up, and ran out the door. Duncan rolled his eyes, and looked at Methos.  
  
"Less than a minute." He said, placing a twenty on the table.  
  
"More than ten." Methos said, slapping down another. Connor frowned, confused.  
  
"All in between." Joe said, and added a third. The door opened, and Richie came back in.  
  
"Uh, where's the museum?" He asked. Joe and Methos blinked, and then scowled when Duncan grinned.  
  
"Hah!" Duncan shouted, and confiscated the sixty dollars. Joe scowled.  
  
"C'mon, Richie. I'll go with you." Joe said, standing, and picking up his cane. "We'll take my car. You drive.  
  
"Hey, all right!" Richie said, and got the door for Joe. The three older immortals watched them go.  
  
"You really think it's wise to send Richie to the museum with Joe. Alone? What if the immortal senses how young he is, and attacks him?" Methos said. Duncan looked up, as did Connor.  
  
"Aw, dammit." Duncan said. "You had to get me worried." The three men got up, and went out into the rain.  
  
***************  
  
When they got there, they found Richie poking around the room, or, to be more precise, poking the things in the room, with the curator fussing at him. The curator didn't look happy to see the three new arrivals.  
  
"You're right, Mac." Riche shouted, his voice magnified in the cavernous room. "It's really weird!" the curator began telling him to keep his voice down. "Look, lady, I'm on an official investigation here, and you're not making it easier. So, go bitch at that kid carrying the vase over there." The curator shrieked, and went scurrying off, frantically. "Heh. I thought that would work." Joe looked back at Duncan, Connor, and Methos.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"We still feel it." Methos said, shrugging. "There is an immortal in this room." They looked around.  
  
"There are four immortals in this room. Five, if you count the invisible one." Richie said.  
  
"Shut up, Richie." Duncan said.  
  
"Hey. Maybe the statue's immortal." Richie said, laughing, pointing to a large sculpture of a man in the middle of the room. Duncan rolled his eyes, but looked up when Connor gasped.  
  
"Connor?"  
  
"Duncan, the statue. What if."  
  
"You think." Duncan murmured, staring at it. The curator came running back in with a security guard, who grabbed Richie by the jacket.  
  
"Woah! Hey! Chill! I'm a team player! We can work this out! I'm just looking for someone!" Richie's voice drifted down the hall. "Oh, c'mon. I'm just, Mac! A little help here! Joe! Adam! Hey, c'mon---" They ignored Richie's fading voice  
  
"Ma'am, what can you tell me of that statue?" Duncan asked the curator. She eyed him, then sighed.  
  
"It's of one of the magistrates that presided over the trials in Salem, during the witch trials."  
  
"Really?" Duncan said, an frowned, thinking. "How long is it here?"  
  
"It is leaving tomorrow. They're taking it to the storage rooms after we close up tonight."  
  
"Ah. That's a shame. I'd like to see it again." Duncan said.  
  
"Duncan." Connor said. "Richie?"  
  
"What about him?" Duncan said, looking at Connor. Connor pointed over his shoulder. Duncan looked. Richie was in a tree, right outside the window, waving to get his attention. Duncan rolled his eyes, and gave Richie a wave, and a peeved look, before leading the way out of the museum.  
  
**************  
  
"You're kidding, right?" Richie said, watching Duncan come out of the bathroom. Connor glanced up at Richie from the sofa, where he was tying his shoes.  
  
"No."  
  
"Why do you want me to come?!?"  
  
"Because you know how to break into places." Connor said. Richie groaned.  
  
"Not into museums!" Duncan smirked, glancing at Richie.  
  
"Get dressed, Richie. Then meet us at the car."  
  
"Aww, man!"  
  
*************  
  
"I can't believe I'm doing this." Richie moaned, for the fourth time.  
  
"Can you keep it down?" Connor hissed, as he and Duncan circled the statue.  
  
"Well, it's too heavy and too big. We can't steal it." Duncan said.  
  
"Wait, woah. Steal it?!?"  
  
"Quiet!" Connor snapped.  
  
"Well, we know there's and immortal in there. But, is it in the statue itself, or the base? The base is more than big enough." Duncan thought out loud.  
  
"Well," Richie said. "We won't know until we break it open." Duncan looked up when Richie raised a sledgehammer, and slammed it against the side of the base. A huge crack ran up the side.  
  
"Oh, wonderful." Duncan groaned, as Richie swung the hammer again. This time, a huge chunk fell out. Connor pushed Richie aside, and shone his flashlight in. There was a sudden shout, and shuffling noise, that made all three jump.  
  
"Holy shit." Connor gasped. "We were right."  
  
  
  
AN: Is it okay? I don't know if I'm gonna continue it. Lemme know what you think, huh? 


	2. Chapter 2

Cameron  
  
By: alikara  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah. You all know the drill. I don't own a damn thing, blah blah. There. Happy? Good. Oh, and special thanks to my best friend, who previews every chapter before I post, and helps me keep everyone in character. Oh, and helping me with 'the fic is one big paragraph' problem.  
  
SouthernChickie, domo arigato gozaimasu!!! ^_^  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Previously on Highlander: GO READ THE LAST CHAPTER!!!!!!  
  
Duncan and Richie began scuffling for a view. In the back corner of the hollow base, as far away from the new hole as possible, and small figure was curled up, hiding it's face, and trembling violently.  
  
"Turn off the light, Connor!" Duncan hissed. "Richie, help me." And he began breaking a larger hole in the side. The figure whimpered, and pressed itself against the wall of its prison.  
  
"Mac, you're scaring it!" Richie scolded.  
  
"It's not an 'it,' Richie. It's a, well, it's a, he or she. I just can't tell yet." Duncan said.  
  
"Great. It's nice to know that it has a gender an' all Mac, but can you find out what?"  
  
"Shut up, Richie." Connor snapped, and broke a large peice away. "There. That should do it." And he began to climb in, trying to ignore the smell. Duncan followed.  
  
"Hey." Duncan called softly, to the figure. "It's all right. We won't hurt you." Slowly, the figure lowered it's arms.  
  
"Have ye come to lift me out of Hell?" A weak voice whimpered.  
  
"What?" Connr asked, blinking.  
  
"Surely thou art the Arch Angels, Micheal and Gabriel, come to save my soul?" The figure replied, in a voice that Duncan decided to be male.  
  
"Uhh, not exactly." Duncan said.  
  
"But close enough." Connor finished, reaching a hand out to the boy, and laying it on his arm. The boy gasped, and went completely limp. Connor shook him, but got no response. "Fainted." He muttered, and began draggin him out. Duncan shuffled out before him, and drew his sword.  
  
"Woah, Mac, you're not gonna." richie began. Connor wiggled out, draggin hs laod by the shoulders. He hefted him up in his arms, and Duncan raised the blade above the limp figure's head. "Mac, no!" Richie yelped, as the blade fell. It sliced through filthy mats of tangled hair, that was longer than the boy was tall.  
  
"Look at his clothes." Connor said, amazed.  
  
"Those are clothes?" Riche asked.  
  
"What's left of his clothes. He's been in there a long time." Duncan said, and lit a match.  
  
"Mac, what are you doing?"  
  
"Destroying evidence," Duncan said, and tossed it into the base of the sculpture. With a flash, what was left of the boy's hair caught fire, and Richie wrinkled his nose at the smell.  
  
"Aw, man. That's foul. Can we go now?"  
  
************  
  
Joe and Methos looked up from there chess game in Duncan's loft above the Dojo, when the elevator whirled to life.  
  
"They're back." Methos said, feeling the powerful presence of more than one immortal. "And they have someone with them." He stood. The elevator stopped, and Richie lifted the gate. Connor came out first, with a body cradled in his arms.  
  
"Guess what we found!" Richie announced, loudly.  
  
"Let's take him to the bathroom. Get him cleaned up." Duncan said. "Richie, make some soup. Who knows when he last ate. Methos, give us a hand, huh?" Methos jumped up, and followed the two MacLeod's into the bathroom. Duncan turned on the shower, and adjusted the temperature, while Connor, with Methos' help, stripped away what was left of the mysterious immortal's clothes, then passed him to Duncan, as the immortal was still out cold.  
  
"He looks like death itself." Methos said, eyes raking over the boy's ribs. "I've never seen anyone that pale."  
  
"He had to have been in there for at least fifty years." Connor said, glancing up at Methos.  
  
"With those clothes, and the way he spoke?" Duncan said. "I'd say over a hundred fifty."  
  
"Sealed for over one hundred years?" Methos gasped, as Connor held the limp body up for Duncan to wash.  
  
************  
  
"He died." Richie said, breaking the silence.  
  
"What?" Joe asked, looking up.  
  
"He died. I just felt him come back."  
  
"Oh. Do they know who he is?" Joe asked Richie, who was stirring soup.  
  
"Nah. I heard him call them Micheal and Gabriel, as in the angels, then he passed out. He was in there a long time, Joe. His hair was as long as Mac is tall."  
  
"Which Mac?"  
  
"Hah. Take your pick." Richie said, taking the soup off of the stove, and putting some into bowls. "You want some?"  
  
"Sure. Thanks." Joe said, tapping away on his laptop. "What's taking so long. It's been over an hour." He grumbled.  
  
"He was a mess, Joe!" Richie said thickly, through mouth full of French Bread.  
  
"Mm." Joe said, then looked up, when the bathroom door opened. Duncan appeared first, backing out of the bathroom slowly. He had a pair of pale hands in his own, as he led the pale immortal out of the bathroom, on unsteady legs. Joe stood, to get a better look at the mysterious immortal. Connor followed closely, his hands on the boy's shoulders, keeping him steady. Methos followed, frowning thoughtfully. He passed the three immortals, and picked up a blnket from the sofa. Duncan slowly sat the boy down on the sofa, and Methos flung the blanket around him. Then, everyone sat back to look at him.  
  
His hair fell down to his mid back in waves, now that it was washed and brushed out. It was black in color. It made his pale complection even more pale looking. His skin was chalk white, making him look as if he had been carved from marble. His dull eyes stared blankly, they were a cloudy blue in color, like a new born infant. The only movement was his occasional blink, and the steady rise and fall of his chest, under one of Duncan's black shirts.  
  
Duncan sighed, and knelt in from of the boy.  
  
"I am Duncan MacLeod." He said, softly. "And you're safe now." The boy made no sign of acknowledgment. "This is Connor MacLeod, Richie Ryan, and Joe Dawson. And this is Methos. You're among friends. We won't harm you." Still no reaction. Duncan frowned. "What's your name?" Nothing. Duncan raised his hand, and passed it in front of the boy's eyes, trying to find any sign of awarement, but there was nothing. He sighed, and looked back at the others.  
  
"He may have no mind left, Duncan." Connor said. "It may be doing him a favor to take his head."  
  
"Hand me my sword." Duncan said. Connor blinked, but did. Duncan raised it I front fo the boy's face, and angled it, reflecting the light off of the blade, and onto the boy's face. Watching the light on his cheek, he angled the blade, until the light flahed in the boy's eyes. The pupils dialated, nd his body jerked. He gasped, and shut his eyes, turning his head slightly. Duncan sighed, glad to have gotten a reaction to somehintg.  
  
************  
  
"Mac? You home?" Joe Dawson called, as Methos lifted the elevator gate. The loft was dark.  
  
"Right here." A voice said, and Duncan wandered around the corner from the kitchen area, slurping a soda.  
  
"Why is it so dark?" Joe complained, looking around the dim room. All the curtains were drawn, and only a few canldes were lit here and there.  
  
"The light upsets him." Duncan said, pointing across the room. The pale immortal was sitting in the corner of the sofa, curled up tightly in a blanket, staring off into space.  
  
"Mac, it's been four days. Has he shown any signs of life at all?"  
  
"When I turn on a light, or open a window he does." Duncan said, and flicked on a lamp. The boy's eyes widened briefly in alarm, and he promptly buried his head into his arms. Duncan turned off the lamp. "See? He won't monve for fifteen minutes or so. Richie figured that out the other day. A dozen times or so." Methos frowned, thoughtfully.  
  
"Mac." Joe said. "Connor's right." He sighed. "He was in there too long. He's lost his mind."  
  
"No." Duncan said, coldly.  
  
"Mac,"  
  
"No."  
  
"He was in there too long."  
  
"What about Nefertiri?" Duncan said. Joe blinked. "She was wrapped up like a mummy, and sealed in a coffin since Cleopatra's time. And she was perfectly sane."  
  
"She lived in the past, Mac."  
  
"She was also sealed for thousands of years."  
  
"She was different Mac."  
  
"How?"  
  
"She was, well, look Mac. It's a lost cause. Connor was right. Do the kid a favor and take his head."  
  
"No."  
  
"Look, Mac, the reason Nefertiri didn't lose it is because she was immortal, and she knew it. We have no records of this kid, whatsoever. I've looked. He probably didn't know he was immortal. You said he said something about being in hell. He thought he was Mac. He lost it. Face it." Duncan scowled.  
  
"No."  
  
*************  
  
Duncan finished his omelet, and put the dishes in the sink. He washed them. Then, he turned, and looked at the boy, still in the corner of the sofa. It had been over a week since he had rescued the boy, and there was no change. He sighed, and moved over to a window, opening the curtains. The moon shone in. Duncan turned and sat down next to the strange immortal.  
  
"You know, they want me to kill you." He said, finally. "If I tried, would even try to defend yourself?" He looked at the other person, who made no sign of hearing him. "Maybe I should. Maybe you have lost your mind. What's you name? Where did you come from? Why won't you talk to me?" the boy still gave no answer. "You have to snap out of it. For your own sake." Duncan said, and stood, going to shower.  
  
He let the hot water caress the tense muscles in his back. All this worrying over an unresponisive immortal was starting to affect him. The boy didn't eat, didn't drink, didn't move. He had died, and come back to life three times all ready since the first night. Duncan was starting to agree with Joe and Connor. Maybe he should take the boy's head.  
  
No. He wouldn't give up. Not yet. He shut off the water, and stepped out of the shower, drying himself off. He wouldn't give up. He pulled on his black sweatpants, and went out into the main room. He froze. The sofa was empty, aside from the blanket. He looked up. The boy was standing in front of the window, staring up at the stars. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was open slightly, as if in surprise. Slowly, Duncan approached him.  
  
"Those are stars." He said, quietly. "Do you remember them?" He watched the boy's face, closely. Slowly, he blinked, and a tear fell, running down his face. His eyes remained closed, and his head fell to his chest for a moment, before his whole body sagged. Duncan caught him before he slumped to the floor, and carried him over to the bed. He pulled down the blankets, and made the boy comfortable, then tucked him in. He watched his charge for a few minutes, before settling down on the sofa.  
  
"Well, I guess that was progress." Duncan mumbled to himself, before drifting off.  
  
***************  
  
Yay! Chapter 2 done! I'll try to update soon, but with my erratic schedule and six people using one computer, it might take a while. I'll try to update once a week, but, no guarantees. Arigato! 


	3. Chapter 3

Trapped Souls  
  
Alikara  
  
Disclaimer : No own. Piss off.  
"Really?" Joe said, looking past Duncan to the lump in the bed that was the pale immortal. Duncan nodded. He had just told Joe, Connor, Richie and Methos what had happened the night before.  
  
"Yup. Got up and went to the window all by himself. Then collapsed. Probably used all his energy, since he won't eat or drink." Duncan said. "I've tried to get him to drink some water, but, well, he just stared off into space."  
  
"Lights are on, but nobody's home." Richie said, slurping his soda.  
  
"Kinda like you." Methos said. Richie gave him a look.  
  
"Nobody asked you." Richie grumbled. The two began swapping insults playfully, so Duncan, Connor, and Joe tuned them out.  
  
"So what are you gonna do with him?" Connor asked.  
  
"Just keep trying. He may just be in shock. But hey, progress takes time." Duncan said.  
  
"I wonder how he got into that sculpture. It was made during the Salem Witch Trials, you know."  
  
"When were those, again?" Connor said, frowning in thought.  
  
"Started in 1692." Joe said. "If he was sealed then, he would be over three hundred and ten years old!"  
  
"You honestly don't think he was in there for three hundred years, do you?!?" Duncan gasped.  
  
"Bet ya fifty bucks you can't!" Richie shouted suddenly.  
  
"You're on!" Methos shouted, and stood, going over to Duncan's bed, where the immortal was still sleeping. Joe, Duncan and Connor watched, confused. Methos slowly approached the bed. The boy, it turned out, was not asleep. He was just lying on his side, staring off into space. Methos sat down next to him.  
  
"Good morning." He said, softly.  
  
"What's going on?" Duncan hissed at Richie.  
  
"I bet him fifty bucks he couldn't make the kid talk." Richie said.  
  
"You what?" Duncan gasped, and Connor chuckled.  
  
"That 'kid' may be over three hundred." He told Richie.  
  
"You're joking, right?" Richie, said, eyeing Connor warily.  
  
"Shh." Joe said, and they turned their attention back to Methos. Methos sighed, and decided to plow head on.  
  
"1692, Salem, Massachusetts." He said. "You were there, weren't you? A slave from the Barbados known as Tituba was accused of witchcraft. A group of girls led by one Abigail Williams," Methos paused, and sucked in his breathe when the boy's face twitched. "Began accusing people of witchcraft." The boy swallowed, and his eyes closed. Methos looked up at the four men wattage him. They crept closer. "By the time it was over, sixteen were hung, and one man pressed to death. By the name of Giles Corey." Everyone jumped when the boy's eyes flew open, and snapped to look at Methos, making eye contact for the first time. "You were there, weren't you?" Methos asked, quietly. "The group of girls were Abigail Williams, Betty Parris, Ruth Putnam, Mercy Lewis, Mary Warren," with each name, the immortal in the bed began to shake. "Do you know any of these girls?" The immortal blinked, slowly, and swallowed.  
  
"Aye." He whispered, hoarsely. His eyes closed, and his breath stilled.  
  
"He died." Richie announced loudly, making everyone jump. "Again."  
  
"He spoke!" Connor gasped.  
  
"Can I borrow fifty bucks?" Richie muttered to Duncan, who gave him look.  
  
"N, you can't borrow fifty bucks. You still owe me fifty bucks." Duncan growled.  
  
"Yeah, me too." Joe said.  
  
"Aww, man!" Richie whined.  
  
"You can add me to that list of debts too." Connor said.  
  
"What! I don't owe you money!"  
  
"Damn. Thought I'd get away with it." Connor snickered.  
  
"Ah, screw this." Richie grumbled, and went to get another soda. Methos chuckled, but turned his attention back to the immortal, when his body jerked. He gasped, and his eyes flew open, looking wildly around the room. Duncan went and got a glass of water.  
  
"You know, you need to stop doing that," He said to the immortal. "If you drink something, you won't. At least not as often." Connor rolled his eyes. The immortal looked at Duncan, then at the water, and back to Duncan. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and edged away from him. Duncan blinked, and Methos snickered.  
  
"I'm Methos." He said. "This is Duncan. E won't hurt you. That's Connor. That's Joe, and that, over there, is Richie." Methos said, excited that the boy was looking at everyone he pointed at, registering who they were. "What's your name?" Methos asked. The boy blinked.  
  
"Cameron." The boy said, quietly. "Cameron MacLeod."  
  
*************  
  
Ooooh, cliffie. Yup. You hate em, but deal. Anyway, sorry for taking so long to update. I had kinda abandoned the damn thing, but SouthernChickie convinced me to return to it. With her help, I may actually finish it. And he more reviews I get, the quicker the updates will come, so push the pretty purple.. No, blue.. No, lilac... lavender... violet... perriwinkle... aww, to hell with it. Just push the damn review button already!!!!!!!! 


	4. Chapter 4

Trapped Souls

alikara

Disclaimer: No own. Piss off.

Chapter 4

There was a sudden choking and coughing from the kitchen area. Joe, Cameron, Methos, Duncan and Connor looked to see a purple faced Richie choking on his soda, his shirt covered with it. Duncan winced sympathetically when it came out of Richie's nose.

"Ouch," he muttered.

"Did he say MacLeod?" Richie wheezed. Cameron blinked.

"Aye…." He said, not knowing why his name made Richie spew. He then noticed that everyone was staring at him as if his nose had suddenly disappeared. "What?

"Cameron MacLeod?" Joe said. Cameron nodded. "Of the Clan MacLeod?"

"No, Joe, of the Clan MacSmith!" Richie shouted from across the room.

"Shut up, Richie!" Joe snapped over his shoulder.

"Connor, if we ignore him long enough, will he go away?" Methos asked.

"Unfortuanately no." Duncan said. "He's still here and I've been ignoring him for how many years?"

"Damn." Methos grumbled. Cameron looked on, confused.

"I heard that!" Richie shouted.

"Richie, I'm sure there's something downstairs you could be doing right now." Duncan said, agitated.

"But—"

"Now."

"But—"

"Go!"

"But—"

"You say 'but' one more time and I'm gonna kick yours!"

"Aww, man." Richie whined, and stepped into the elevator. "After four hundred years you should probably consider taking that stick out of your ass MacLeod!" Duncan whirled to glare at Richie as he closed the elevator gate, protectively in front of him, averting his eyes from MacLeod, who snarled when Richie began to loudly whistle the theme song to the Andy Griffith Show.

"How do you put up with him?" Connor asked.

"He's easily bribed." Duncan said. They turned their attention back to Cameron, who was extremely confused by this point. "on the other hand, I'd rather keep you where I can keep an eye on you, Richie!" Richie blinked, the shrugged, coming back into the room.

"Cameron, you're safe now." Methos said. "Tell us what happened to you. Where are you from? Why were you entombed?" Duncan, Joe, Connor, and Richie made themselves comfortable on the King sizze bed around Cameron.

"My family migrated to the New World when I was four." He said. "A plague spread through the passengers on the ship. I was one of seven survivors. I was taken in by one of the other survivors, an old woman. We traveled to Salem. We lived in the woods near the town, but we kept to ourselves. She died when I was almost fifteen. So I lived by myself. When the trials came up, it took a surprisingly long time for me to be accused. During my trial, one of the witch hunters kept watching me. I was convicted, and hung. I remember feeling my neck break." Richie flinched.

"When I woke up, I was on the ground. They were about to bury me. They panicked. The witch hunter who had been watching me, said that I was a chosen of Satan. And that I could not be killed. He said that I must be entombed for all time. They sealed me in a large stone block. I don't know how long I was in there." Duncan, Connor and Methos frowned.

"You were sealed in there in 1692. The year is now 2005." Joe said. The boy's eyes widened. "What year were you born?"

"1675."

"My God." Connor growled. "You're 335 years old…" the boy stared at Connor.

"How, how is that possible?" Cameron gasped. Duncan sighed, looking at Joe.

"Cameron, you're immortal."

"I'm, I'm what?" Cameron gasped.

"You're immortal." Joe said. "You can't die. You're not the only one. Duncan, Connor, Methos and Richie are immortal as well. That's how they found you. Immortals can sense eachother."

"You know that feeling you get when ever one of us comes near you?" Richie said. Cameron nodded. "We get theat feeling whenever there is another immortal nearby. It's a warning."

"Warning?" Cameron asked. Methos sighed.

"It's the time of the Gethering."

"the what?"

"Now is the time when immortals challenge eachother to mortal combat. A fight to the death."

"To the death?"

"The winner takes his enemy's head, and with it, his knowledge and power, in the form of the Quickening. That is the only way you can be killed. Decapitation." Methos said. Cameron looked ill.

"You'll have to learn how to use a sword."

"A sword?" Cameron squeaked.

"Yes. We can teach you how to fight, little brother." Connor said.

"Brother?" Cameron asked.

"We are all MacLeods." Duncan said, smiling. "We're clansmen. We're kin. We're family. Even if we are a hundred years apart."

"A sword?" Cameron squeaked again, making Connor chuckle. Duncan reached under he bed, and drew his Katana, shoving it into Cameron's hands. Cameron stared. "What if, what if I dont' want too?"

"You must. It's do or die, Cameron." Duncan said.

"But enough of that." Riche interrupted. "You hungry? I mean, its been over three hundred years since you've eaten."

"Yes. Yes, thank you."

"Make him some soup, Richie." Methos said. "His stomach will be weak for a while."

"Right." Richie said.

"I'm 335?"

"Yes." Joe said.

"How old are you?" Cameron asked, looking at Connor.

"Five hundred."

"Four hundred." Duncan said.

"Five thousand." Methos said. "I'm the oldest living immortal left."

"And Richie?"

"Thirty." Joe answered.

"Twenty nine!" Richie shouted. Cameron looked incredibly depressed, suddenly.

"What's the use? I can't use a sword! I don't know anything about this time! I can't survive!"

"You can." Connor said. "We'll help. We'll teach you to fight. Richie will help you get in touch with this age. We'll help. But first, let's get you something to eat." Methos put an arm around Cameron, and helped him to his feet.

"Thank you."

Chapter 4 done! Woo hoo! I am SO sorry it's taking me so long to update this... a few months is one thing, but YEARS! I am ashamed of myself, and I am sad to report that I cannot say when I will update this again. Don't hate me. () oh, and SouthernChickie... you have my permission to nag me in regards to this fic.


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